Last Light
by Poppyseed
Summary: Ryan finds it isn't that easy to quit smoking. One shot.


**Last Light**

**Summary:** One shot. Ryan centric, set early in the first season, shortly after Dawn leaves for good. Ryan finds it isn't that easy to quit smoking.

**A/N:** Found this buried among some other stories and realized I never posted it. I wrote it a long time ago. I'm not completely happy with it, but thought it still was worth posting.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing

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The pool house was shrouded in darkness. It was nearly dawn, but Ryan still couldn't sleep. He hadn't gotten used to the silence of Newport yet. The sirens and screams and the blare of the television set had always eased him to sleep in Chino. Somehow, the silence here was louder than the noise of Chino had ever been.

Ryan didn't like being left alone with his thoughts. Some nights his mind just raced too fast, questioning everything that he had. He still couldn't figure out his place in this family. He had finally gotten what he wanted, but somehow, somehow he was still afraid of the other shoe dropping. He wasn't sure how long he could hold on to such a good thing.

He sat up in bed, throwing the covers off of himself. He was fighting a losing battle. His fingers itched to do something. He crossed the room and pulled out his last pack of cigarettes. He had promised Sandy and Kirsten that he would quit. He just hadn't been able to. He had been smoking for so long. It helped him sleep when his mind was working too fast for its own good.

He inhaled the sweet scent of the tobacco. Just one cigarette wouldn't hurt. He could quit tomorrow. No one would know.

Before he could think any longer on it, he threw the pack in the trash. He had made a promise. He crawled back under the covers. He needed to sleep. He searched for a sound, any distraction to stop his mind from working and lull him to sleep. He couldn't even make out the quiet hum of the pool filter. In Chino, there was always noise. Ryan could barely hear himself think most nights. Sometimes the noise was from outside: blaring sirens, undecipherable music blaring from one of the neighbor's all night parties, and the screaming of another marriage gone wrong. Mostly though, the noise was from his own house: the sound of a baseball game in extra innings from the tv, the sound of his mom clanking glasses and slamming cupboards as she mixed herself another drink, the sound of Trey sneaking in and out of the house. And the screaming. Dawn screaming at Trey when he inevitably got caught, Dawn's current boyfriend yelling at her to shut up while he was watching the game, the sounds of breaking dishes and holes punched in the wall when Dawn wouldn't let it go, the sound of Dawn screaming for help when whoever she was dating finally had enough and hit her.

He wondered where she was now. He wondered what was going through her mind when she walked away and if she was lying awake in bed right now thinking of him. He wondered if she was drinking. He wondered if she was alone or if she had found another worthless man to make her feel whole again. He wondered if she was safe. He wondered if Seth or Sandy or Kirsten, or anyone in Newport, had ever laid awake at night not knowing if their sleep would be interrupted by the police or the EMTs the neighbors had called when the screaming got too loud or not knowing if it would even be safe to leave your room if you had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Ryan wondered if he had truly left that life behind or if he would always sleep the same guarded sleep he had slept in Chino.

Ryan threw back his blanket and sat up. It was no use, he couldn't sleep. He quickly grabbed the half empty pack of cigarettes from the trash and stepped out near the pool. He stole a quick glance towards the main house, making sure everyone was asleep. He reached in his pocket for a match and lit his cigarette.

From the first inhale, Ryan felt better, calmer. He sat down on the edge of the pool and dangled his feet in. It was a warm night, with barely a breeze. He debated going in for a swim, but decided he wanted his cigarette more. As he stubbed his first out on the cement, he quickly lit another and laid back to stare at the sky. He closed his eyes, feeling at peace for the first time in a long time.

"I thought you quit?"

Ryan jumped, and, instinctively crushed out his cigarette. He hadn't heard Sandy come out. "Oh, um, sorry." He stumbled, dropping his eyes to the ground. "I just, I mean…" He stared up at Sandy, unsure what to say. "I didn't think anyone was awake."

Sandy took a seat next to Ryan. "I couldn't sleep. I came downstairs for a bagel, and I saw you out here."

"I didn't think anyone was awake," he repeated.

Sandy nodded. "I thought you quit."

Ryan shrugged and looked away. "Yeah, well…"

"Ryan, Kirsten and I were serious when we said there's no smoking in this house."

Ryan briefly met Sandy's eyes and then quickly looked away. "I tried. I just…" Ryan stopped mid thought. He wasn't sure what he was trying to say. He HAD tried to quit. He really had. He just _needed_ it sometimes. Sometimes holding onto that cigarette was the only thing that kept him grounded, the only thing that kept him from disappearing completely. Sometimes, it was his life line.

Sandy was still staring at him, waiting for him to finish his thought.

Ryan shrugged again. "I'll quit. I promise."

Sandy nodded. "Good, good." He stared off into the horizon. "Those things will kill you someday if you don't." He stood up. "Don't stay up too late."

Ryan nodded, wondering if he should tell Sandy. If he should tell him that he had been smoking for years, that he couldn't just stop one day. It was harder than that. Should he tell Sandy that what he was scared of was the life that he had lived, not cigarettes? Cigarettes were easy – he had been stealing them since he was nine from wherever he could get them – his mom's purse, the useless boyfriend, the gas station on the corner near his house. Figuring out how to get by in his house without getting hit, or kicked, or slapped, that was the hard part. Cigarettes wouldn't hurt his future like they preached in school. The way he saw it, he didn't _have_ a future.

Sandy was nearly to the kitchen door. It was now or never.

"Sandy?" Ryan stood up, and followed after him.

Sandy stopped, walked closer to Ryan.

Ryan's eyes were to the ground again. "I did try." He looked up. "To quit I mean."

"I believe you."

"It's just, it's hard you know."

"I know it is. But you can do it." He put his hand on Ryan's shoulder. "I know you can kiddo."

Ryan tensed at the contact, and hesitated for a minute. He wondered if Sandy really knew about his life. If they really were "cut from the same cloth." Would Sandy still be interested in Ryan if he knew the whole story? Would Kirsten? He shook his head. He nearly told him, but decided that the sleepless nights in safety were worth more than a pack of cigarettes. "Thanks," he muttered.

Sandy nodded. "Try to get some sleep."

Ryan shrugged and headed back to the silence of the pool house to be alone with his thoughts once more.

He lay there, lost in sleepless thoughts until at last the sun broke through the blinds. Morning. He waited, silent and still, before deciding it was a reasonable hour to be awake. He rolled to his side and stumbled for the shower.

He stopped briefly at the sink to splash some water on his face. He was so tired. He never knew it was possible to be so tired and yet still not able to sleep. He reached for the shower, turned it all the way to hot and stepped in. The water felt like daggers piercing his skin. He winced slightly, then leaned his head back and tried to let the water melt away his insecurities. He wondered if he would ever fit in here. This world the Cohens lived in was so unknown to him that he may as well have landed on Mars. Sandy may have thought that he and Ryan were kindred souls of some sort, but Ryan just didn't see it. He didn't know if he would ever adjust to this family. They barely even spoke the same language.

Ryan stood in the steam of the shower for a long time before finally wrapping himself in a towel and stepping back into his room. As he sat down on the bed to pull on a pair of boxers, something caught his eye. Lying on his pillow was a packet of nicotine gum with a note. _'Thought this might help. Join us for breakfast when you're done. –S'_

Ryan studied the package in his hand and managed a weak smile. Maybe Sandy understood what he was saying last night after all. He thrust the first piece in his mouth and wondered what other surprises this family had in store for him.


End file.
